


Dead Ringer (Fic+Art)

by Ladybird_Sparrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Minor Violence, POV Regulus Black, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladybird_Sparrow/pseuds/Ladybird_Sparrow
Summary: --- --- ---The duplicate. The substitute. The impostor.--- --- ---Regulus Black Fest 2020 EntryPrompt by JadeJabberwock: In the act of trying to destroy the locket, Regulus got sucked into it instead, replacing Voldemort's horcrux with an unintentional one of his own. Regulus dies in the cave, but years later as Harry wears the locket around his neck while on the run from Voldemort, Regulus feels himself stir back to life.--- --- ---
Comments: 17
Kudos: 36
Collections: Regulus Black Fest 2020





	Dead Ringer (Fic+Art)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadejabberwock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadejabberwock/gifts).



> Beta read by the wonderful [Nerdherderette.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdherderette/profile)  
> Really, I'm not worthy. \\( ; v;)/  
> Thank you very much for all the help!
> 
> \---  
> And I need to say that really really love this prompt by Jade<3
> 
> \---  
> Trigger Warning: Strangulation

The waltz of the stars on the enchanted ceiling had amused him for about ten minutes before he tired of it. Regulus stretched his arms and yawned as he lazily interlocked his fingers in the back of his head. Platters of food surrounded him while he laid on his back as he watched the enchanted sky above the Great Hall from atop the Gryffindor table. Even though it was morning, millions of stars danced, forming the constellations he wished to see. He had thought that a non-static, astrological display would be an interesting presentation. It was, but it was also a lame and boring concept when he could do practically anything in this world. It wasn’t the first time that he wished he had an ounce of his brother’s creativity.

Today, Severus Snape was in the middle of a congregation of golds and reds who laughed openly at his dry humour. Regulus’ brother Sirius, on the other hand, exhibited proper pureblood etiquette while discussing politics with the silver and greens next to James Potter. At the same time, Lily Evans, who was wearing blue and bronze, was locked in a heated debate with Remus Lupin from the house of black and yellows. 

Regulus lost count on how many times he had shuffled the replicas of witches and wizards he knew from school, before he decided he had enough of all the houses and their colours. With a wave of his hand, the entire student body’s uniforms changed to deep purple. He immediately regretted it. The colour reminded him too much of what he felt deeply, so he blinked away the purple and lightened it into pink. 

The sight made him giggle, and his laughter merged with the usual cacophony of school. Regulus guffawed as he rolled over the table without care. Pitchers of pumpkin juice and milk toppled over and he accidentally kicked platters of bacon and eggs to the floor. But nobody cared and they all continued on with their business, despite the fact that the people here were now adults and had graduated Hogwarts by this point. No matter how messy or childish his actions were, the young man who was stuck in his eighteen-year-old self would do whatever he wanted with the world he was trapped in, just so he could fill the emptiness he felt.

The hopeless madness of his spiralling existence continued until he heard a heartbeat that silenced the Great Hall. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned. It was faint, but the throbbing sound was steady. Regulus ignored their blank stares and slowly pushed himself up. The thumping of the rapidly beating heart surrounded him. His eyes roamed around the hauntingly immense ancient hall of Hogwarts. He could not determine the exact location of the sound, yet the beat of life called out to him, and he found his soul yearning for it. For the briefest moment, Regulus’s astonishment for discovering the life source he so desperately craved had morphed into madness. Insanity painted his face.

One by one, the people around him blew up and exploded into thick black tar while the food spoiled instantly. And as the colourful house banners bled a dark inky substance that dripped down to meet the curling tendrils of smoke rising from the ground, the mundane noise of everyday life was replaced by the chorus of tortured screams and harsh screeching sounds of hell. Yet it did not deter Regulus from homing on to the beating heartbeat that his magic could feel. He ignored the overwhelming darkness that was starting to surround him until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The inky blackness of the void embraced him and, as always, Regulus felt like he was drowning. He shivered at the memories of the cold depths of the lake in the cave. With immense difficulty he forced the world to change, this time into his bedroom at Grimmauld Place.

“How may I serve you today, Master Regulus?” A healthy and bubbly Kreacher, so very different from his original house elf, welcomed him, but Regulus’ only response was to shush the replica of his old friend.

Regulus sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Pure Dark Magic amassed from the smoke emitted from his pores tangled and weaved into one another. When it was thick enough, the tendrils stretched away from him like a more aggressive form of Devil’s Snare. The smoky vines searched for that elusive heartbeat. Regulus felt despair, guilt and a delicious sadness coming from the pure soul when he finally made contact.

Suddenly, Regulus was overcome with a dangerous desire. He was _hungry._ It made him sick to feel this vicious thirst to consume an innocent life, but it was hard for him to pull back. The darkest magic he had come to know in his quest to destroy the Dark Lord’s tether had twisted his very being after he was trapped in this place for so long. Even though Regulus came from a family of Dark Wizards, he detested the fact that he was virtually swimming in Dark Magic. That he had become one with it. Unfortunately, it was also the very thing that kept him alive.

He forced the magic to back off. Regulus had sacrificed his life in order to destroy the Dark Lord’s abomination, and even if he had somehow become one with the darkness in the process, he would deny being a Horcrux with every fibre of his being. He refused to fall prey to his hunger, yanking the tendrils of Dark Magic away from the pure soul.

As he was about to pull the last of the tendrils back, however, Regulus felt waves of sorrow and grief. They were the aftertaste of Death. The wearer of the locket was in mourning. It was a very familiar feeling; after all, Regulus Black had died, now merely a piece of his former soul. Then, a wildfire of fury exploded from the locket-wearer before their connection was severed completely.

* * *

Regulus was trying--and failing quite spectacularly--to enjoy a sunny afternoon tea with a sane version of his mother when he heard it beating again. Time had no meaning in this fabricated world, but he knew that a long time had passed since he felt the heartbeat from the pure soul. However, it was only active for a minute or so until it was gone once more. But then, after some time had passed, the heartbeat would come back at the most unexpected moments. Because of this, Regulus’s anticipation grew. He was delighted to notice that soon enough, the interval of its absence shortened while the time it remained linked to his world lengthened. 

He was in the Hogwarts Library when he heard the familiar heartbeat and he was tempted to reach out once again. Fear and frustration was palpable through their connection, but the most prominent feeling of all was an intense desperation and determination. Even more, Regulus could practically taste the powerful aura coming from the bearer of the Dark Lord’s locket: 

_Life._

Regulus so desperately wanted to taste it. He wanted to feel it within his veins, to feel warmth, to feel pain. And, without consciously knowing it, the tendrils of Regulus’ magic reached out farther than ever before. 

For a moment he felt very much afraid. Because not unlike Apparating, he felt as if he was being pressed hard in all directions. What was different about it though was that he was also being torn to shreds at the same time, getting smaller and smaller, losing every part of himself until there was nothing left. Regulus thought the torment would not end. Until one whispered heartbeat had throbbed from their connection, that gave meaning to the word _hope_ itself and he desperately latched onto it. He consumed a little from the warmth it gave him until it silenced his maddening woes.

He was confused when he opened his eyes and found himself in a wide but dimly lit place. It was outdoors, albeit cloaked in darkness.

_Salazar, he was out._ He was back in the real world. Regulus was startled when he realised that he was only an apparition, passing through the plant stalks surrounding him, his hands practically transparent in the darkness. Despite this, Regulus wanted to shout his joy to the heavens for this miracle. 

His attention was caught by the night sky, dotted full of stars. Unlike the ones in the Great Hall, these stars were no fabrication of his imagination. The scent of the fresh, late-night air made him gasp. Regulus didn’t know how much he missed it until now. It was different from the cold despair of what he was used to, so he hungrily took a deep breath. The air that passed through his lungs brimmed with so much life, and its ambient magic rejuvenated him. It was so different from the Dark Magic that had cradled him for so long, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Turning around, he realised that he was standing in a wheat field and in the vicinity was a rough but towering house that seemed to be held with nothing but magic given the lack of structural integrity of its architecture. He could also sense the strong magical wards surrounding it and he quickly crouched down when he noticed a lone wizard with messy black hair not far from him walking away from the impossible house. With his current incorporeal state hidden among the tall crops, Regulus doubted the man--no, the younger and shorter wizard--would be able to see him so easily.

Through the dark tendrils of his connection, Regulus felt the strong presence of the pure soul’s heartbeat. He knew at that moment that _this boy_ was the wearer of the locket. Hope was still there but was overpowered by the dread and heavy sorrow that screamed down their connection. It awakened his hunger to consume the innocent soul once more. He was drawn to it, and was about to move closer towards the boy when the door to the house opened and a tall, red-headed man came out.

“Going somewhere?” Although the voice was deep, Regulus realised the redhead was younger than him. The man’s steps were slow and heavy and he looked tired. Actually, both of the young men looked exhausted. The locket-bearer slowly turned towards the redhead, and Regulus was shocked when he recognised who the boy was.

_Potter._ It was _James Potter._ The crops surrounding him started to wither. Jealousy, one of the emotions that his darkness adored, had started to cloud Regulus’ reason. His Dark Magic had emerged, but he did not notice it.

“Nobody else is gonna die. Not for me.” Regulus was alarmed by what Potter had implied and felt his own dread rise. He glanced around to see if he could find his brother somewhere nearby; the two Gryffindors were inseparable. He believed that they would never leave nor betray one another. But they were in the middle of a war, and anything could have happened. 

Looking at Potter’s guilt-ridden face gave Regulus no comfort. If anything had happened to his brother...

No. Regulus vowed right then and there that he would kill James Potter if he had led Regulus’ brother to his death.

“For you? You think Mad-Eye died for you? You think George took that curse for you? You may be the Chosen One, mate, but this is a whole lot bigger than that. It’s always been bigger than that.” The redheaded teen was closer now. Regulus noticed that the gangly redhead was roughly as tall as he was.

_Who were Mad-Eye and George?_ But Regulus couldn’t care less about possible blood traitors from the light side when he could feel the deep-seated hatred uncoil from the depths of the void. James Potter took Regulus’ brother’s love away from him, and his darkness desired vengeance.

“Come with me,” Potter said.

Regulus flinched. It triggered hurtful memories when his brother chose to run away, leaving Regulus with their deranged mother. Dark Magic started to seep out from Regulus like a black, thick fog. Tendrils emerged and stretched out from him to squirm freely.

“And leave Hermione? Are you mad? We wouldn’t last two days without her.” The redhead looked back at the crude house and shifted on his feet before he turned back to James. “Don’t tell her I said that. Besides, you’ve still got the trace on you. You’ve still got the wedding.”

Regulus crouched, curling further into himself. He was hungry and his mind was in disarray, barely noticing the magical fog and the dead crops. He was hungry, so very hungry. He was practically drooling over the enticing soul of the locket bearer, even though it was Potter.

Regulus felt his lips formed into a mad grin. _No._ It was _perfect_ that the bearer was James Potter. He slowly inched closer towards him.

“But I don’t care about a wedding. I’m sorry; no matter whose it is, I have to start finding these Horcruxes. They’re our only chance to beat him, and the longer we stay here, the stronger he gets.” 

Regulus stopped. _Horcruxes? Did that mean that his sacrifice was all for naught?_

“Tonight’s not the night, mate. You’ll only be doing him a favor,” the redhead said.

Potter pulled the straps of his bag off his shoulders and dropped it unceremoniously to the ground while turning away from the redhead. The tall redhead huddled closer and picked it up. He walked a few steps away from Potter before stopping, waiting for the other wizard to follow him back towards the house. During that time, something glinted on Potter’s arm that caught Regulus’ attention. Potter had the locket wrapped around his left wrist like a bracelet and Regulus gagged when he recognized it. Jagged memories of that fateful night in the cave stabbed his psyche like broken glass shards.

_The empty vials. The dark amulets he stole from the Black Family vault. His slitted wrist and the runes he drew using his own blood. A summoned serpent imperiused to hiss at the locket. Kreacher’s wails before popping away. The activated blood seal and the shrieking Horcrux. The clammy dead hands of the inferi. Regulus’ last smile in knowing that he had succeeded in ending the war as he released his final breath._

Regulus felt hostile spells that passed through him. His mad traumatic haze had cleared a little and he was surprised to feel the rapidly beating heartbeat that was now in his grasp. They were on the floor and he was on top of Potter who had failed to land a kick and a punch to his intangible body. Several witches and wizards were surrounding them, shouting and firing spells that had no effect whatsoever. 

Regulus’ semi-transparent hands were now solid enough and it was wrapped around the struggling wizard’s neck. He chuckled as he clenched his fingers tightly, chasing after the delicious life source that trickled down their connection as Potter struggled less and less.

“S-sirius. I’m so sorry for ki--,” Potter whimpered as Regulus tightened his grip even more. Potter did not have to finish what he was about to say. Regulus heard it loud and clear, and in his anger, he drained more life and more magic from the young wizard faster. Tears streaked Potter’s face. Green eyes that were starting to dull stared at him and Regulus felt himself getting stronger. _Green? Wasn’t Evans the one who had green eyes and not Potter?_

Regulus had siphoned magic deep enough from Potter that he could feel another dark presence that wasn’t supposed to be there. _“I have to start finding these Horcruxes.”_ He remembered what Potter had said earlier and it made him loosened the tight hold on the wizard’s neck. Immediately, the wizard beneath him gasped and coughed harshly as he struggled to breathe. When Regulus saw that a scar--shaped like a lightning bolt on Potter’s forehead--had split open and had started to bleed, he jumped back and scrambled away from him. Regulus could feel malevolent magic from it. _Did Potter use the same twisted ritual I used to destroy one of the Horcruxes and had somehow survived?_

“Harry!” Somebody from the gathering crowd wailed the unknown name they’ve all been calling out to since they all had encircled them and it finally dawned on him.

Regulus stared shockingly at the young wizard he had almost killed. “Salazar, what have I done?” Regulus asked no one. _This young man was not James Potter_. 

Most of the group went towards the injured wizard, but an older man--with his wand still pointed shakingly at Regulus, while his other hand raised to signal a ceasefire at the other wizards who were still poised to attack--stepped closer towards him. Regulus would always recognize the kind amber eyes of the scarred werewolf. One of Sirius’ best friends that Regulus used to secretly trade notes with back at Hogwarts

“Regulus?” Lupin had asked. It hurts to see that the man now looked at him as if he had seen a monster. The werewolf wasn’t wrong with his assumption and Regulus doesn’t know if he wanted to cry or to laugh.

“Remus,” Regulus said before he gave the older man a sad smile. He couldn’t take it anymore. Using the magic he had gained from the young wizard, Regulus gathered the loose Dark Magic around him and broke his connection with the locket wearer. The young wizard who looked like James Potter howled in pain before he fainted. Regulus stood up and turned away from the panicking group as he was gradually enveloped by the dark smoke he was so used to. He never thought--even once since he became a Horcrux--that he would seek the comfort of his fake paradise in the cold embrace of the void.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic title is taken from a Des Rocs song with the same title.


End file.
